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Mon, May 18 2026, 4:39pm PDT [ Login ] [ Main index ] [ Post a new message ] [ Search | Check update time | Archives: [1], 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7 ]

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Date Posted: Mon, Jan 03 2005, 2:30pm PST
Author: Dathan Brown
Subject: ...Forever and the Night...

The dirty blonde/brunette walked in, his features carrying a smug and gentlemanly smile. He nodded to all the ladies with a friendly wink, and walked to the far end of the room, taking a seat against the wall. Pulling a large tome from his knapsack, he grumbled slightly. He did not even know why he lugged this huge thing arund with him when he traveled so much.
The book had not even been one fourth filled-it was originally used only for constellation markings and other things pertaining to his studies, but he found his clippings and recordings to become a bit more personal than professional. He intermingled the two, especially when things started going bad at his home. He had been writing for over five years now in the large book; sketches in merely ink and pencil were engraved on some of the pages, but mostly were scientific sketches of the sky and professional notations along with journal entries.
He passed a few pages and made a few markings beside some; the past couple of days he had witness different phenomina in the sky, and found it quite intriguing. He also made note to every different place he encountered and his begining thoughts on it. He soon became engulfed in his writings.
His black silk shirt was clean and unblemished, buttoned only to mid pectoral; but his pants could have done better. He was a bit more gracious in the treatment of his pants-the nice slacks were blemished with dirt and debris from his travels. It never much bothered him though. His face was that of a young man-something he hated. Never would a man look upon him with complete respect, and never would a true woman look at him with lusty eyes-sudden memories flooded his mind, and he shook his head, removing the few strands of hair that had strayed on his face. Never again would a true woman look upon him like that.
He stopped writing, the black calligraphy pen leaving a large welt of ink where he had stopped. Luckily, the sudden moment faded and he was brought back to reality. Sleepless nights and memory filled days, walking alone, had made it easier for him to cope with his hardsips.

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